


Iron Touch

by Akira_of_the_Twilight



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fae, College Student Tony Stark, Deception, Dreamscapes, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Family Secrets, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M, Misguided Parenting, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-05-25 20:30:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akira_of_the_Twilight/pseuds/Akira_of_the_Twilight
Summary: Tony jarred forward as the car swerved. His gasp was swallowed by Howard’s furious and startled bellow as the man cranked the wheel. A pitched sound escaped Maria.Tony grunted as the car slammed into a tree. The shadows of leaves and branches rained down on the car.Tony pushed himself up, only for his seatbelt to pin him into place. Tony found his buckle’s release button and pushed. “Mom!”The front passenger door was ripped off the car. An arm reached into the car and Maria was yanked out of the car like a ragdoll.A tall, male figure in dark colors aimed a glock at Howard’s head. The dark made most of the fine details of the man impossible to see; however, Tony would have to be blind to miss the white, luminous, and most certainly not human eyes the man possessed.Those eyes shifted to Tony.  The eerie gaze paralyzed Tony.Tony wanted to have a relaxing and fun winter break. Even more so, he wanted to make his mom happy by visiting her, even if it meant having to put up with his baffling and curmudgeon of father. His time with his family is cut short when they are attacked. Tony finds himself embroiled in the world of Fae and a deadly power struggle.





	1. Prologue

Tony poked the unconscious man lying face down on the grass in his backyard with a stick. Blood splattered the man's foreign clothes, which looked like a costume for a renaissance faire or a fantasy-themed convention. The bloodstains had dried on the garments, but the cuts on the man’s hands looked fresh.

The man didn’t respond to Tony’s poking.

Tony stared at the man’s side. When it rose from inhalation, Tony jabbed the stick between the man’s ribs.

A groan slipped out of the man. He lifted his head like it was a boulder attached to his neck. Stormy eyes pierced Tony. A mouth framed by dark facial hair scowled at Tony. The patches of white hair that edge the sides of the man’s face caught Tony’s attention. The man was old, but he wasn’t _that_ old; he didn’t have wrinkles yet. Tony had heard of skunk hair, but he’d heard it described as a streak, not like a pair of laurels.

Tony would have to double-check his definition of the term.

“Do you mind?” the man asked.

“You’re in my backyard.” Tony waited for the man to say something more, but when the man said nothing else, Tony continued. He dropped his stick and crouched so he was level with the man. “It’s a pretty big backyard, and it is supposed to have security. How did you get over the gate?”

There were cameras all over the house, and Howard always had at least one security guard on patrol.

Tony should probably tell whoever was on duty about the intruder, or at least tell Jarvis, but Tony had just had a fight with Howard, and he didn’t feel like doing anything that would make his father happy. Besides, with how battered the man looked, Tony doubted he was much of a threat. Also, he didn’t see any weapons on the man.

“What makes you think I went over the gate?” the man asked.

“Well, going under it would take a lot of work, and you’re not a ghost, so you can’t walk through it.” Tony picked up his stick and prodded the man one more time to be sure he was tangible.

The man batted away the stick then collapsed. “Leave me be. I’ll disappear from here shortly.” He flopped his head down, reverting to looking like a corpse in Tony’s backyard.

Tony’s stomach twisted. Concern for the stranger mixed with trepidation. It was an uncomfortable cocktail of emotions. He considered his options, then returned to his house.

He peeked his head through the back door before he stepped inside the home. He swiveled his head around the bright  and pristine kitchen. Jarvis had been cleaning dishes a few minutes ago, but based on the sound of vacuuming coming from upstairs, Jarvis had moved on to a different part of the house.

Glee tickled Tony’s insides. He scurried into the house and toward the downstairs bathroom. He flung open the cabinet under the sink then riffled through the bottles of cleaning products until he pulled out the first aid kit. Tony opened the blue, metal box to check the contents inside. The kit was stocked with everything he needed. Tony snapped the box shut then hurried to the kitchen.

Tony was halfway to the back door when a thought entered his mind.

The man looked pretty beat up. He also looked like he might be homeless.

He wondered when the last time the man had eaten was.

If Tony was going to take care of the man, then he had to take care of him thoroughly. No half-assing, as Howard would put it.

Tony set the first aid kit on the counter. He plodded to the fridge. A gentle, cold rush of air brushed over him as he opened the door. Every shelf and drawer was heavy with food. There were so many choices, that for a few seconds, Tony stood frozen in indecision.

 _Pick something healthy_ , he told himself. He nodded at his internal command. It was only logical that if he was going to play doctor to the man outside, then he had to feed the man healthy food.

Unfortunately, Tony was limited to what he knew how to make. Limited, but not defeated. Tony closed the fridge. He plucked an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. He then went about making a peanut butter sandwich, which he covered in cling wrap. He set the sandwich and apple on the first-aid kit-turned lunch tray. He mulled over the lunch he’d crafted then added a glass of milk to the tray.

Satisfied that he had everything he needed, Tony picked up the kit and marched outside.

He was pleased to find the man still in his backyard when he returned.

The glass of milk wobbled as Tony kneeled on the grass. Tony held his breath as he set the first aid kit down by the man’s head. He inwardly cheered when he didn’t spill anything.

When the man remained motionless, Tony cleared his throat.

The man’s left pinkie twitched.

“Hey,” Tony said.

The man huffed.

“Hey,” Tony said with frustration.

The man lifted his head. The stormy eyes were ready to strike Tony with their lightening, but any annoyance that had been brewing in those gray clouds vanished at the sight of food.

Pride swelled in Tony’s chest. He shuffled around the first aid kit so he was by the man’s side. “Do you need help getting up?” Tony had been halfway through his sentence when he started tugging on the man’s arm. Excitement thrummed through him. He couldn’t wait to see how the man reacted to his sandwich making skills and his first-aid skills.

The man sat up slowly. His eyes were wide with awe, but his mouth was a thin line with just the tiniest downward curl that gave away his befuddlement. He eyed Tony warily.

Tony picked up the sandwich and unwrapped the cling wrap around it. He thrust the sandwich at the man. “Here. I made it myself, so you better appreciate it.”

The man took the sandwich, then stared at it.

 Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t poison it.”

The man’s gaze darted to Tony then the sandwich. He raised the sandwich to his mouth and took a bite.

“Well?” Tony asked.

The man nodded. “It tastes good.”

Tony grinned. He picked up the glass of milk and put it in the man’s other hand. “It’s even better with milk.” Tony then picked up the apple. He considered putting it on the ground, but set it on the man’s knee. “I’m going to patch you up while you eat.” Tony opened the first aid kit. He puffed his chest as he took out the adult, rubber gloves from the kit. “Don’t worry, I do patch jobs all the time.”

The man didn’t protest.

Tony babbled as he cleaned the man’s cuts. At first Tony talked about robots, but his topic soon changed when he kept finding cuts everywhere on the man. He didn’t understand how one person could let themselves be hurt so much, which he told the man. He was appalled by how many deep “cuts” (gashes, really) the man had. The man should be at the hospital.

“I can call a doctor, if you want.” Tony smoothed over the last bit of tape he had used to plaster the large chunk of gauze over the wound below the man’s rib cage.

It had been such a hassle to find the wound. Tony had spotted the bloodstain easy enough, but to get to the wound, he’d had to force open the man’s weird robe-like top—not a yukata, but something similar. There had been so much fabric to push through to get to the source of blood. After some wrestling, the top now hung loosely around the curves of the man’s shoulders.

Once Tony put some space between himself and the man, the man tugged his robe back into place with one hand. In his other hand he held the glass of milk, which was almost empty. He threw his head back and downed the last of the beverage.

“You sure you don’t want to see a doctor?” Tony pried off the rubber gloves from his fingers then stuffed them in his pockets to throw away later. He did the same with the cling wrap left over from sandwich.

The man shook his head. “That will be unnecessary.” He stared at Tony.

“What?” Tony asked.

The man took another beat before answering. “Is there something you want?”

“Like a thank you gift?” Tony shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I was just being a good Samaritan and helping out my fellow man.” That wasn’t entirely true. Tony had gotten the thrill of knowing he’d done something his father would disapprove of out of the deal, but the stranger didn’t need to know that.

The man nodded slowly in understanding. “I will not worry about it.” The man gave Tony an assessing look. “You’re young, so I will ask again: is there anything you desire?”

Tony frowned. There were a lot of weird things to unpack from what the man had just said. The contradiction of promising not to worry then asking his question again was one of them. Tony also didn’t like that the man had brought up his age. He was young, but he was smarter than most kids.

“My dad’s really smart and makes a lot of money, so I don’t really need money. I could use some friends, but it doesn’t take a genius to know you can’t force friendships, so you can’t give me that.”

“I could be your friend,” the man offered.

“You’re too old,” Tony said.

A small flash of either recollection or realization passed through the man’s gaze. He nodded deferentially.

Tony huffed, blowing a brown curl out of his eyes. He crossed his arms and tapped his finger against his elbow. “Can we put this on the back burner for now? Ask me when I’m older? Sometime after I’m eighteen but before I’m twenty-five? Maybe by then I’ll have thought of something.”

Tony didn’t expect to ever see the man again after today. He just didn’t want the man to pester him about what he wanted anymore.

“That would be a mutually beneficial compromise.” The man held out his hand to shake on the deal.

Tony took his hand. He shook the appendage with all his might. “Good.” Tony took the empty glass of milk from the man. He stepped back. “You should probably leave soon. Jarvis mentioned he needed to do some yard work today. He’ll mow you over if he finds you here.”

“I will leave shortly.”

Tony gave the man a thumbs up. He turned to go, but stopped mid pivot. He faced the man. “I’m Tony.”

The man blinked. He didn’t say anything.

“And you’re name is?” Tony drew out the last word, creating a question mark with his inflection.

“You may call me Stephen.”

“Which way?” Tony asked.

Stephen blinked.

“Which way is it spelled?” Tony asked.

The corners of Stephen’s mouth quirked. It was the first sign of a smile that Tony had seen on the dour man.

“With a ‘P H.’”

“Cool. You’re the more acidic version.”

The faint traces of a smile vanished from Stephen’s face. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

Tony waved off Stephen’s confusion. He wasn’t the first, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last not to understand. “It’s okay. I’ll see you when I’m older. Bye, weirdo.” Tony turned and hurried into the house.

He set the empty glass of milk on the kitchen counter then threw away the garbage in his pockets. “Jarvis!” Tony ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “I’m bored, can I play in Howard’s workshop? I promise I won’t break anything this time.”


	2. Chapter 1

Tony ran through the packed corridor of hysterical and frightened crew members as they either fled to their stations or to shelter. The overhead lights blinked as the starship trembled from the impact of enemy fire.

Tony gritted his teeth as he slammed into the wall. A science crew member stopped and gaped at him like a fish. Tony knew nothing about the man and everything about him at once.  

The man held his daughter by the shoulder as they stared at Tony. The debate between survival and kindness was prominent on the man’s face.

Tony threw his arm outward. “Go!”

The man slung his daughter over his shoulder. He scrammed.

Tony pushed himself off the wall, but couldn't take a step. The rush of people was like a tidal wave. It took all of his strength not to be knocked down.

“Where are you going this time?” a calm and familiar voice asked Tony.

Tony turned. The crowd vanished. The familiar, coy curl of Stephen’s mouth was a security blanket that wrapped Tony in a sense of peace. The blue robes and crimson cloak that were out of place on the spacecraft tickled Tony's sense of humor.

“I need to get to the engineering,” Tony said.

Stephen cocked his head. His cloak billowed around him. He stroked the cape like he was calming a pet. “You have a fascination with engineering.”

Anxiety wrestled off the serenity that Stephen's presence had embraced Tony with. It clamped onto Tony. If he didn’t get to the engineering to fix the shields, thousands of people would die.

Tony seized Stephen’s hand. He bolted for engineering. He only took a step and was there.

He cursed. Every terminal was empty. Smoke piped out of the computers, and two of the fuel chambers had visible damage.

Tony released Stephen’s hand. He sprinted to the closest terminal. He scanned the ship for damage and found so much more than he’d anticipated. His terminal lit up with images of the ship’s internal structure marred by blaring red patches to indicate damage.

He could fix it; he could fix everything.

Tony jumped to another terminal and worked on the shield. He needed to buy himself some more time. If only his fingers could fly across the keys quicker. Also, why had the big hunchos gone and added so many damn passwords to the damn system? He was wasting time trying to gain access to all the parts of the system. There had to be an emergency override somewhere.

There was one, Tony knew it was so, but despite an inner voice screaming at him that he knew how to access the override, Tony kept typing away.

Stephen strode up behind Tony. He left only a breadth of space between Tony and himself. “I owe you a favor, Tony. I could help you.”

Tony stopped as realization came crashing down upon him like a waterfall.

He’d done this before. This was a dream.

Something within Tony cried out in relief as he turned away from the terminal. He ignored the part of himself that was terrified he was about to let thousands of people die.

“I love you,” Tony stated. His words confused him, even as they rang true. His love wasn’t fire or passion. It was calm. It was the eye of the storm. Everything about this place, about himself right now, was in such chaos, but Stephen was stability and security. Tony loved those traits and so he loved Stephen.

It made sense in a dream.

“And would you like me to love you too?” Stephen asked. His tone was neutral, but his eyes gave him away. There was a spark that told Tony that his question carried more weight than it seemed.

Tony smiled. The engineering room was wiped away and replaced by the backyard of Tony’s childhood home. A plaid blanket was thrown across the grass at their feet. A plate stacked with sandwiches at the center of the blank enticed Tony to take a seat on his knees. He grabbed a sandwich off the plate then twisted around to offer the sandwich to Stephen.

Stephen snorted in amusement. “Some things remain the same.”

Stephen stepped forward, but his cloak didn’t follow him. Instead, it hovered in the air as Stephen walked around Tony so he could sit across from him. Stephen plopped onto his butt and crossed his legs. “Tea or alcohol would be better right now.”

After Stephen uttered the words, a teacup and a bottle of whiskey appeared in front of him. Stephen picked up the whiskey and examined the label. “You blurred the name. Can’t decide what to give me?” Stephen asked Tony.

“I-” Tony started, but was cut off by his alarm going off.

Tony yanked his blanket over his head and curled into a ball as the incessant beeps screeched at him to get his ass out of bed. What class did he have today? Was it Differential Equations or Econ? Tony vaguely recalled taking the finals for those classes.

As Tony thought about it more, his exhausted brain remembered that he had finished his finals last night, and today he was supposed to drive home.

Tony groaned.

Why did he think waking up early to drive home would be better than to leave in the middle of the night?

The answer was his dad. The less time Tony had to spend with Howard, the better. His dad drove him crazy. There was just no pleasing the stubborn old fart. Tony just had to breath and his old man jumped down his throat. Whether it was grades, fashion, or choosing to get pizza instead of a burger, Howard always had an opinion. Most of the time that opinion boiled down to: Tony is wrong.

Tony took a deep breath. His mom would be there too, Tony told himself. She was the only reason he was going home for winter break. She’d called him a few weeks ago, and when he had mentioned that he’d been thinking about going to his friend Maya’s house for winter break, she had been devastated.

Tony could and would show his dad the middle finger at any given moment, but his mom was a different matter. He loved her. There was no way he was going to break her heart.

Besides, things had gotten little awkward with Maya after she had confessed that she had romantic feelings toward him. Tony was flattered, but he’d never thought of her that way. Plus, he enjoyed casual flings over something serious. He much rather spend time in the labs, read, or build sets and props for the theater department (especially if he got to weld. His life changed the day he learned he could weld stage props and get college credit for it).

Tony uncurled just enough to smack his alarm. He enjoyed the blissful silence for a few seconds then forced himself to sit up. He blinked as he adjusted to the light peeking in through the shut blinds.

His half-packed roll-away suitcase lay open in the middle of the room. He grumbled as he rubbed his face. Why had evening-Tony decided to burden morning-Tony with the task of finishing packing? Tony knew he should have never trusted himself.

Tony’s bare feet touched the cold floor, and he welcomed it. The coolness felt nice against his sleep-heated skin.

Tony scratched his back as he shambled toward the door. He plucked his towel and toiletry basket from his desk along the way. His fingers fumbled with the knob and lock as he opened the door then locked it.

The hallway lights were off. The dorm was desolate like it was a Saturday morning. Typically, there were maybe three people who lived in the dorm who were awake on Saturday mornings. If there were more who were awake, those people didn’t hang out in the dorms, and only their roommates knew about their god awful sleeping habits.

Tony didn’t see or hear anyone as he made his way to the bathroom. He shoved his basket and towel into one of the shower stalls, then went to the toilets to relieve himself. Once he’d satisfied mother nature’s call, he climbed into the shower, where he drifted off into daydream land. The warm spray pummeled his back and chest. He mindlessly washed his hair then rinsed. Once that was done, he turned off the water, toweled himself, then wrapped the towel around his waist.

Tony went over the list of things he still needed to pack as he strolled to his room. It was mostly little things like his toothbrush and hairbrush.

Tony stopped in front of his room. He shifted the toiletry basket so he could sift through its contents with ease. He shoved aside his shampoo and conditioner. His room keys always got buried under the two bottles.

The keys weren’t there.

Panic jolted through Tony’s heart. He pushed his toiletries around and shook his basket in hopes of hearing the jingle of his keys. He saw and heard no traces of his keys.

Crap. There was a phone outside that would call campus security, but he wasn’t too fond of the idea of going outside in nothing but a towel. Tony glanced down the hall. The resident advisor _should_ still be in their room, but Tony had overheard them talking to their friends about leaving early.

Tony tried knocking on the RA’s door just in case.

His knocks went unanswered.

Cursing his bad luck, Tony went back to his door. His stomach twisted. He was sure he had locked the door, but the door had always been a strange thing. There were times when Tony and his roommate swore they had locked it, but the moment Tony touched the knob, the door opened.

Tony prayed that this was one of those times.

Tony lay his hand on the knob and turned it.

The door opened.

Tony sighed in relief. He really hadn’t wanted to go outside. Tony hurried into his room and shut the door behind him.

He grabbed clothes out of his closet and dressed himself. He finished the rest of his morning routine then worked on finishing packing. Once he was done, he made sure he had his key in his pocket. He then lugged his suitcase to his car where he deposited it in the truck. Tony hurried back to his room.

Shoved under his desk was a bag of books that he had collected from his fellow students who hadn’t been able to resell their books to the campus bookstore. A chunk of the books were classic academic reads, but others were junk food reads turned academic, such as the recently published _It_ by Stephen King. He itched to read his new collection, but he knew if he started reading, he wouldn’t put his book of choice down until he finished. His mother would worry if he arrived late.

Then he’d have to deal with Howard’s guilt trip.

Promising to read the books later, Tony took them out to his car.

Tony did one last sweep of his room before he locked his door (double-checking that it was locked), then hopped in his car and made long trek home.

The long journey started off with some residual morning traffic then drifted into lazy hours of Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, and Rolling Stones as his only distractions from the monotonous road. Halfway through the trip, Tony pulled off at a gas station to refill the tank and eat an ice cream cone. He stretched his legs by walking the block a few times then jumped back into his car and hit the road again.

His body was cramped and tired of being in the same position for hours by the time he reached home. His stomach growled from lack of anything to eat other than the meager ice cream Tony had given it.

Tony plotted the first thing he would eat as he got out of his car and walked around to the trunk. Tony had just opened the trunk when a squeal from his parent’s house stole his attention.

He barely had time to recognize his mother coming at him in her matching jacket and skirt before she flung her arms around him and pulled him into a crushing embrace.

“Mom!” Tony chastised even as his mouth split into a grin wide enough to rival a scarecrow’s.

She kissed Tony on the temple then pulled away. The sun sparkled on her pearl necklace and earrings. The light brought a sheen to her wheat-color hair as she examined Tony.  “Give your mother a break, Tony. It feels like I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“You saw me during Summer Break.” Tony reached into the trunk. He pulled out his suitcase then set it on the gravel driveway.

“And here it is winter.” Maria bent down. She released the handle on the rolling suitcase.

Tony yanked the bag of books out from the trunk then slammed the trunk shut. He hoisted the bag’s strap onto his shoulder then took the suitcase handle from his mom. He wasn’t going to let her carry his stuff. She was still young and could easily handle the suitcase, but he was an adult. He could carry his stuff.

“I’ll make sure to skip a few days of classes once a month just to visit you.” Tony carried his suitcase over the three steps leading up to the front door. He then rolled his suitcase into the parlor, stopping just inside of the house so his mom could catch up.

She shut the door behind her. “As much as I would love that, you’d hate me for it.”

“I don’t mind visiting you.”

“You’d be mad about missing your classes.”

Tony opened his mouth to deny the accusation, but he found he the words died on his tongue. He’d hated school until college. The classes had been tedious and boring. Everyone else learned so slow.

College courses could be slow too at times, but there were so many subjects he could study, and it was his choice what he spent his time learning. He was praised when he read supplemental material and applied it to his essays and projects. Most of his professors were also open to having amicable debates with him. College wasn’t perfect, but it came damn near close.

If things went the way Tony planned, his next semester would be closer to perfection. The average semester was worth sixteen units. In the Spring, Tony would be earning twenty-eight units, nine units over the maximum amount students were allowed to take before paying per unit.

His guidance counselor had urged him not to take so many classes, but Tony could out stubborn a bull.

"Is that my son, Maria?"

Tony’s stomach dropped at his father's voice. Howard was a workaholic, and there were still a couple of hours left of the typical workday (not to mention, that Howard was notorious for working beyond the standard 5 o'clock end time for the average company employee). Tony had hoped until his heart was sore that he would have a few hours with his mother before Howard returned home.

"Last time I checked he is." Maria tilted her head back. She smiled up at Howard, who stood at the top of the grand staircase.

Howard was a looming shadow of misfortune. He shared many of Tony's features—a Mediterranean complexion paired with dark hair. His hair was meticulously trimmed, including his mustache, which was currently mussed by the pursing of his lips. He wore a beige suit that tamed the garish reds and pinks of his button-down shirt.

A part of Tony reared back in fury at his father's choice of attire. Tony vividly remembered last spring how Howard had chastised Tony for wearing a similar outfit (it wasn’t even the wildest of Tony’s outfits). The word "gaudy" might have been used more than once.

Howard's hypocrisy was as chafing as leather after it was drenched in water and left out to dry in the sun.

Howard marched down the staircase. With each step, Tony dreaded his father's approach. He hoped to the powers that be that he would not have to have an awkward hug with his father.

Howard stopped two paces away from Tony. He scanned Tony with an impartial gaze. His expression gave nothing away, yet somehow Tony felt that he had failed his father's initial examination.

"It has been a while," Howard said.

Tony internally sighed in relief when he realized his father wasn’t going to hug him. "And they say distance makes the heart grow fonder."

Howard gave an acknowledging nod. "That is a saying."

Howard's words pricked Tony. He hadn't missed the dismissal tone. Then again, he supposed it was only fair. After all, hadn’t he sidestepped Howard's greeting first?

Maria huffed. Her hand landed on Tony’s shoulder. Her manicured nails gripped him. "You two. Must we go through this song and dance every time?"

Tony stiffened. "There is no singing or dancing here."

Howard gestured at Tony. "You heard the boy."

Maria threw her hands up in the air and rolled her eyes. "Fine. Give each other the cold shoulder. Just don't let it ruin the time we have together. I miss my baby." Maria cupped Tony's face and kissed him on the cheek.

"Mom!" Tony wrenched his face free from his mother's hands.

"Maria!" Howard stood up straighter. "There is a certain decorum that must be followed with our adult son."

Maria waved off their outbursts. "By the end of Tony's visit I'm going to be so drained from the two of you bickering, allow me this. Now," Maria patted Tony on the back. “Take your things to your room. We have reservations for dinner, and by the time you’re unpacked and we get there, they should be ready to seat us.”

"Dinner?" Tony shuffled a few steps forward, avoiding Howard as he neared the staircase. The wheels of his roller suitcase squeaked across the floorboards. Tony checked his wristwatch. "Isn't it a little early for dinner?"

"And did you eat anything today?" Maria asked.

Tony flushed. His mom knew him so well. "I had an ice cream cone."

"That does not count."

"All right. All right. Family dinner it is." Tony side-eyed his father as he went up the stairs. Howard didn't look stressed or annoyed today, so dinner would probably be tolerable. It would be a bit like going to the dentist for a checkup. A hassle, but nothing awful as long as a cavity wasn't found.

Howard might pick and prod, but he wouldn’t find any cavities this evening.

Tony carried his suitcase and bag to his room. The room was just as he had left it, albeit colder. His window was open two inches. His mom had opened it. She always opened the window every time he visited, except for the one time he had surprised her.

Tony shucked off the bag and tossed the suitcase onto the navy comforter of his bed. He unzipped the suitcase, but stopped there. He took in the sight of his room one more time. There were so many baubles and knick-knacks that he had left behind for college. Every visit he thought about throwing some away or donating them, but he never had time.

Tony crossed the room to the shelf above his desk where the cassette player was kept. He wiped his finger across the row of black buttons. Even with the shallow carvings of play, fast forward, and eject symbols, the buttons were smooth.

Tony picked up the cassette tape that lay in the middle of his desk and popped it into the player.

Rock music poured out of the device. Tony bobbed his head as he sauntered over to his suitcase to unpack.

Tony put away the items in his suitcase in less than twenty minutes.

He spread out the books he’d brought home with him. He ran his fingers over the covers. The colorful covers beckoned him to look inside each of them. His thirst for knowledge was insatiable at that moment.

His fingers lingered on a large tome of fairy tales. A drawing of a pregnant Rapunzel slumbering encompassed the cover. Tony picked up the bound collection of stories. He eyed the even larger textbook on child psychology that he had received from the same person who had given him the book of fairy tales.

Tony plopped himself on the corner of his bed. He flipped through the stories until one caught his eye. He read the delicate print of _The Snow-Daughter and the Fire-Son_. He soon drifted off into another tale as the first came to an end.

A knock on his doorframe demanded Tony’s attention, which he had to pry from the page.

Maria leaned against the doorframe. The corner of her mouth quirked. “I had a feeling I’d catch you distracted. What did I say about dinner reservations?”

“One story won’t make us late.” Tony had read four.

“Put on your jacket.” Maria pushed herself off the doorframe then left.

Tony didn’t bother with a jacket.

The restaurant Maria had chosen was lavish, and if Tony’s college friends saw the prices on the menu, they would have aneurysms. Tony was underdressed in his jeans and a T-shirt, which contrasted with the crystal chandeliers and expensive art pieces tucked here and there to give the place a rich atmosphere. He was surprised his parents hadn’t said anything, but he paid it little mind once the waiter took his order.

“So Tony,” Maria started, and Tony knew that those two words were the beginning of his mother’s grilling session. It would be a loving interrogation, but she would be just as grueling as any inquisitor. “What have you been up to since last we saw you?”

“Mom, we talk on the phone.”

“So?” She raised a plucked eyebrow. “Face-to-face is different. It’s easier for me to know if you’re hiding something when I ask you things like: do you have a girlfriend?”

“Mom,” Tony deadpanned.

“Just an example,” Maria responded.

Howard snorted. His mouth curled with amusement. Like Tony, he did not believe Maria’s question was merely an example.

“Sure, Mom. Just so you don’t have to ask: I actually already have two kids. One’s mine from a one-night stand, and the other is one I decided to adopt because she’s my boyfriend’s kid from a former marriage.”

The smile on Howard’s face twisted into a grimace. “Don’t joke about that.”

Tony feigned ignorance. “I’d think you appreciate that I’m taking responsibility.”

“Those kind of jokes draw unwanted attention,” Howard stated.

“I’ll let my boyfriend know.”

Howard slammed his fist on the table, jostling the utensils. “Kiss who you want. It’s just youthful indiscretion. Any relationship, however, better not be deviant.”

Tony raised his hand to flip his father the middle finger, but Maria wrapped her hand over Tony’s fist and set it down.

“You two need to stop goading each other,” Maria said.

Easy for her to say. She had no clue what it was like to have some asshole constantly bearing down on her and dictating what she could and couldn’t do—telling her that she could kiss someone of the same gender, but if she ever considered something more serious, then she’d be in trouble.

She didn’t have someone telling her to deny half of herself.

It was only his love of her that kept Tony from snapping at his mother. That, and the waiter returned with their drinks and the first course.

Tony breathed in through his nose as he splayed his cloth napkin across his lap. His shoulders dropped as he pushed the tension out of his body. He picked up his salad fork and rolled up the bits of persimmon, pomegranate, and arugula in a strip of prosciutto. Peppery and sweet flavors mingled on his tongue as he nibbled on the salad.

His temper abated, as did his hunger.

Howard tucked into his salad as well. The world was at peace.

The peace only lasted a few minutes.

“I received your credit card statement last week.” Howard set down his fork then picked up his wine glass. He held the glass like it was a goblet. Tony imagined Howard as a tyrannical king.  “The school is charging you a few hundred dollars it seems.”

Tony’s bones chilled as his nerves sparked with panic. “I changed my meal plan for next semester. I decided I’d let the school bill me directly, instead of going through you.”

“That’s what I assumed until the bill for your upcoming semester showed up the next day. What is this about you taking nine extra units?”

A lump formed in Tony’s throat. “I need to take classes for my major, but next semester there are a lot of special classes that will only be available for that time—no repeats. I knew you wouldn’t want me to put off my major, and I can handle the extra course work.”

“Damn it, Tony.” Howard pinched the bridge of his nose. He breathed deep. “For years we’ve been telling you the same thing over and over. You get a little bit of freedom, and suddenly you think you can just throw everything away.”

Tony opened his mouth to speak.

“Excuse me,” the waiter stopped at the table. He balanced a large tray filled with plates of food on one hand.

Tony and his parents muttered their gratitude and pleasantries as the waiter set down the ordered dishes and inquired if they needed anything. After receiving a polite negative, the waiter strutted away.

Tony waited a beat before diving into the previous conversation.

"I just don't understand what you want from me. I never have." Tony folded the cloth napkin in his lap. “You want me to be the best in my classes, but the moment school counselors try to get me to skip a grade or sign up for middle college, I’m a disgrace. ‘Win the science fair,’ unless there’s an article written about my victory in the local newspaper, then I should have taken second place or not have entered at all.”

"I want you to be responsible," Howard said.

Fury built up like a righteous blaze inside Tony. "How am I not being responsible? I already charged the extra units to my credit card."

"And how will you pay off the card?" Howard cut into his steak. Perhaps Tony was being oversensitive, but he felt as if his father wished to cut into him the same way he had cut into the rich beef. “You don’t have a job.”

“I already-” Tony tried to lie, but he choked on the words. He snatched his glass of water and chugged it down. “I have already applied at a few places. I also had an interview during finals week, and it was promising."

Howard scoffed. "How promising could your interview have been if you haven't heard back from the potential employer yet?"

Howard's words were a low blow.

“Not every employer hires right on the spot,” Tony’s tone was clipped.

“He’s right, dear,” Tony’s mother slipped into the conversation. She sipped her wine. She tossed Tony a shimmering and encouraging smile before throwing it at Howard. “Stane Industries certainly doesn’t hire right on the spot. In fact, I recall you mentioning something about it taking months to hire new employees.”

“Not after the interview process,” Howard stated.

“But it does take a few days,” she said.

Howard’s upper lip twitched as if he wanted to sneer. He put his fork and knife down. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he was finished, he laced his fingers together and rested his chin on top of them. He eyed Maria. “Maria, we have become sidetracked. This isn’t an argument about the interim between job interviews and response time. It’s about our son’s choice to take too many classes.”

“Classes that I will pay for with my own money,” Tony interjected.

“Classes that will exhaust our son. There may be a handful of human beings who could take the number of classes Tony wishes to take without suffering greatly. Think of the consequences.” Howard’s tone was as pointed as a needle.

He had successfully managed to prick Maria if her expression was anything to go by.

Chagrin smacked Tony in the gut. “I know I can handle the course load.”

“And if you cannot, then you will fail, and your tuition will have been a waste of money.” Howard might as well have backhanded Tony.

“I’m an adult, Howard. Even if you won’t recognize it, the college does, so if I want to overload my schedule, then I will.”

“And I am the one who is paying for your education. Of course, you can always pay the entire thing yourself. Your dorm is a few grand as well as your meal plan. I’m sure you can find some way to pay for those on your own, as well as those extra units. Also, there’s still time to fill out applications for financial aid for next year. A pity though. The deadline has already passed for help for this year. You’ll just have take the rest of the year off.”

“Howard, stop. You’ve made your point.” Sorrow and guilt tugged on Maria’s features. She reached out to touch Tony’s hand.

Usually his mother’s touch brought Tony comfort, but just then, contact with her scathed. Her fingertips just barely touched the back of his hand when he yanked it away.

“Tony,” she spoke his name with hurt in her voice and eyes. “Your father has a point. There are only so many hours in a day, and you need to rest and socialize.”

“I can do that just fine,” Tony grumbled.

Maria turned to Howard with a silent plea on her face.

Howard cut into his steak. He jabbed the succulent bite of meat into his mouth.

Like a lit match tossed onto gasoline, Tony’s blood burned with an inferno of rage, hate, resentment, and humiliation. With just one argument Howard had disempowered Tony and made him feel like a frustrated child again.

He wanted Howard to know what it felt like to be shoved into a corner and told his wants didn’t matter.

Flashes of silver flew past Tony’s head. Cries of shock deafened Tony as the silver skimmed past his father like knives thrown at a shown. Except there was nothing behind Howard for the knives to embedded themselves into so the audience could get a clear view of just how close the knives had come to their target. The silver items dropped to the floor once they sailed past Howard.  

Murmurs burst from all those around. A few chuckles rang out. The wait staff rushed to pick up the objects that had flown past Tony and Howard.

Maria covered her mouth as she rambled in a panic. Her head swiveled as she asked Tony and Howard if they were okay.

Crimson spread up Howard’s neck to his face. His lips pressed together tightly but wrestled against the position; they wanted to scowl.

It took a waitress straightening from picking up the fallen objects to draw Tony’s attention away from his father’s murderous expression.

The waitress hugged an armful of forks, knives, and spoons to her chest.

Tony blinked. He looked down at his place setting.

His utensils were missing.


	3. Chapter 2

"Don’t you think you might be overreacting?" Exhaustion burdened Maria's voice.

"Overreacting?" The word came from Howard’s mouth like snake hiss. The word carried just as much venom as a viper’s bite.

Tony screwed his eyes shut. He inhaled deeply. Memories of his parents fighting throughout the years bombarded his mental defenses. That paralyzing childhood fear that he had felt every time his parents had raised their voices at each other squirmed and slithered like tentacles out from under the seam of the door that Tony had shut his fears behind.

Tony closed his book of fairy tales. He shoved himself off the bed and closed the bedroom door. He pressed his back against the door as he took a moment to breathe.

His parents’ voices penetrated the door.

Tony pushed himself away from the sound. He considered his book, but his feet chose the desk. He plopped himself into the swivel chair. Mindlessly, he opened the top drawer of his desk. Screws and scrap pieces of metal rolled about inside. He picked out a screwdriver and a few chunks of metal. He dropped the metal on his desk and fished around the drawer for screws. He turned on his desk lamp, which bathed him in an orange glow.

Tony set to work building. He didn't know what he was crafting. He rarely did when he used the items in his drawer. They were arbitrary puzzle pieces that he had designed to be screwed together in whatever manner his fingers desired at any given moment.

They were his coping mechanism when he was a child and Howard wouldn’t let Tony into his personal workshop. As a teenager, they had remained his coping mechanism, but as much as Tony had longed to play around in a workshop, by then he no longer wished to play in Howard's. The damage between them had gone on for far too long and had struck too deep.

Tony spent an hour putting pieces together then unscrewing them apart. His muscles had relaxed, but his stomach still churned with trepidation.

Tony set aside the small flower he had crafted. He trudged to the door. He didn't need his ear on the wood to hear his parents still arguing.

Tony sighed. His sluggish steps carried him to the bed, where he flopped face first onto the mattress. He pushed aside the book of fairy tales, not caring when it hit the ground.

Tony yanked his pillow down to his chest and hugged it. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. He had learned long ago that he could not _force_ sleep, but with steady breathing he could _lull_ himself to sleep.

His muscles relaxed, and his head fell into a warm cloud.

The brilliant lights of the movie theater cast shadows everywhere. Tony craned his head back to study the bold movie listings above the ticket booth. His friends laughed as they drifted closer to the entrance. They teased him and told him to hurry, but Tony hadn't bought his ticket yet. He knew which movie they were seeing, and he wanted to spend time with them, but there was another movie he wanted to see.

"Anything interesting playing?" Stephen strolled up beside Tony. His red cloak billowed in the nonexistent wind. He looked up at the white sign. "Nothing but squiggles."

Stephen was right. Thick, black squiggles hung on the luminous sign. Part of Tony knew that no one could read the squiggles, but an even stronger part of him knew exactly what the squiggles said.

"A lot of movies. The horror one seems really popular. My friends are seeing that." Tony shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. He faced Stephen. Something in his chest loosened at the sight of the man. He felt lighter, and suddenly he was levitating two inches off the ground.

Stephen smiled. He gently held Tony's elbow, tethering Tony in place. "Which one do you want to see?"

 _The other one_ , Tony thought and felt it in his core. He wanted to see the other movie that no one else was seeing. There was something special and different about it. It was a mix of genres that he knew would get his heart racing with excitement and hope for the characters.

“Highness.” The word broke the quiet bubble that had formed around Stephen and Tony.

A man of orange and yellow flames stood in the beam of light cast by the movie theater. The fiery man was portly with packed muscles. Even without his flames, he’d be a dangerous foe in a brawl. In his flames, Tony could see the shapes of eyes, a nose, and mouth. They were pinched and contorted in a manner of worry.

Red and purple garments that were unmarred by the fire flowed around the man’s legs as he marched toward Stephen and Tony.

“What is it, Wong?” Stephen grumbled as he met the man halfway.

Wong eyed Tony warily. He swiftly deemed Tony nonthreatening. He focused his attention on Stephen. “We’ve gotten another report on the Winter Court. The knight has left the king’s side.”

Stephen’s face hardened. He marched past Wong. “Let’s go.”

Panic lanced Tony’s heart. He gripped Stephen’s wrist.

Stephen stopped. “Release me.”

Tony couldn’t let go.

Stephen looked over his shoulder at Tony. A storm brewed in his gaze. “Unless you intend to ask me to stay, then I will go.”

“Would you like me to break his grip?” Wong crossed his arms over his chest.

Tony sensed the question was a lot more literal than figurative.

“No,” Stephen answered.

Tony swallowed his relief. His fingers were still wrapped around Stephen’s wrist. He internally commanded his fingers to move, but they wouldn’t budge.

He could ask Stephen to stay. He knew he could, and he was tempted to do so.

He didn’t like the thought of asking Stephen to stay though. There was something bitter and wrong about doing so. He focused on that feeling, and one by one he lifted his fingers and thumb from Stephen’s wrist.

Stephen’s arm fell to his side. With his back to Tony, he walked forward. From one step to the next Stephen disappeared. Wong followed behind him, only sparing Tony a glance to make sure Tony wasn’t on his heels.

Tony stared at where the two men had once been.

“Tony!” one of his friends called him from inside the theater.

Music danced around Tony, the melody an unfamiliar song that Tony found himself appreciating. The lovely sound lured him away from the theater.

His friend called to him a few more times before dismissing Tony.

The music grew louder as Tony meandered down the sidewalk into the shadows. The wind picked up, snatching the ends of his coat and running through his hair. Charcoal clouds hovered around the cratered moon, hungry to devour the source of light.

Puddles grew around Tony’s feet until he was standing in a lake as he stared up at the moon.

He couldn’t remember what he had been doing a moment ago. It felt important, but now the only important thing was the moon.

The water rose up around him until it touched his chin then his lips.

The water swallowed Tony.

Tony's eyes shot open. His heart beat in a frenzy. The white ceiling above looked wrong. For a moment Tony thought had woken up in a strange place. Once the moment passed, he remembered that he had traveled home the day before and was no longer at his dorm room. He wouldn't be seeing his Swiss cheese of a dorm room ceiling for weeks. He had to get used to the smooth texture above his head versus the pinholes left over from posters that had been hung by previous residents.

Tony let himself breathe for a moment before pushing himself out of bed. His first two steps were unsteady. He soon reclaimed his balance. He went to the bathroom, where he took care of business, and then headed downstairs.

A soft piano melody greeted him at the base of the stairs.

Tony grimaced. As a child, he had loved hearing his mother play the piano, but as he grew he had learned that his mother often played the piano when she was stressed. The argument his parents had been having last night must have carried over into the morning.

Tony steered away from the kitchen. Instead, he went to the living room, where he found his mother bent as if a tiny demon had settled on her back as she played the piano. She unfolded at Tony's approach. She plastered on a happy face.

"Did you sleep well?"

Tony shrugged. "Howard and you were fighting."

"Yes." Maria paused her voice, but her fingers continued to trail along the piano keys. With her deft touch she brought to life a lullaby. "The incident last night disturbed your father greatly."

Tony had no explanation for what happened last night. He had some theories about magnetics, but that was all they were. Theories. Most of the theories he could easily disprove with just a thought. Normally, he’d be chomping at the bit to solve the mystery, but the look on his father's face that evening had struck something deep inside Tony.

It was self-preservation. His gut instinct told him that he needed to wait a little longer before seeking answers. He couldn't search for them while in such close proximity to Howard.

"You should eat something." Maria brought her lullaby to an end. "We’re going to go on vacation."

"Vacation?" Tony scrunched his nose in befuddlement. "I'm already on vacation."

"Your father is taking us somewhere special. It's been a while since we've gone on a real family vacation." Sadness and happiness warred on Maria's face. Both emotions were genuine. "I think it would be nice to spend time together somewhere other than here."

“This is ridiculous. I just got here.” A mature voice in the back of Tony’s head warned him that he was sounding like a child, but he was too busy trying to make sense of everything to pay it much mind.

Maria stood. She placed her hand on Tony’s shoulder. “I know, honey. Don’t you want to go on a fun adventure though?”

“That’s not the right question,” Tony said. He shook his head. His mom had told him stories about Howard being spontaneous when they were dating, but Tony had never seen proof of it. He’d witness his dad adapt and change plans when trouble was afoot, but suddenly choosing to do something fun like going on vacation was never anything Tony had experienced.

“Where are we going?” Tony asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

 _It’s a secret_ , Tony thought.

Maria patted Tony on the arm. “Let’s get you some brunch then get cleaned up. After that, pack your things and we will go.”

“Today? In a couple of hours?”

Maria nodded.

“Do I need a swimsuit? A sweater?”

“Pack both. It’s a surprise, remember.”

The fact that his mom wouldn’t even tell him what to pack rubbed at Tony like a metal brush.  Something was amiss.

Tony deliberately ate his brunch at a snail’s pace. He tried to use the extra time to get more information out of his mom, but Howard put a stop to that when he walked by to get himself a cup of coffee. “Stop pestering your mother. She told you it was a surprise, didn’t she?”

Tony finished brunch and went upstairs to shower and dress. The longer he went without knowing where his parents were taking him, the more annoyed and frustrated he became. By the time he started packing, he was on the edge of confronting Howard.

“Pick up the pace, Tony,” Howard barked from the doorway.

Tony startled then sneered. He purposely slowed his movement as he folded his shirt. “I’m going as fast as I can.” He didn’t looked over his shoulder as he set the shirt on top of the pile he’d made in his suitcase. He didn’t need to see his father’s face in order to know that the look Howard was giving him was laser hot. The man could cut diamonds with his gaze.

“Maria!” Howard shouted for his wife. His footsteps echoed as he stormed away from Tony’s room like a petulant child.

Tony closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He sensed a headache coming on.

Some winter break. Lies, secrets, and a pissed off Howard.

Tony really wished that he had gone to a beach instead of coming home. It would have broken his mother’s heart, but so far his vacation had been miserable.

A soft knock on the doorframe announced Maria’s presence.

Maria smiled at Tony. In her finely tailored jacket and skirt she didn’t look like a woman about to take off on a last minute vacation to a location unknown. The carpet muffled the sound of her heels as she strolled into Tony’s room.

“Honey, your father says you’re upset. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Tony resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Telling me where we are going would make me happy.”

“I’m sorry.” Maria forced cheer on her face. “Think of it as a vacation to celebrate not only the holidays, but your visit as well.”

Tony scoffed. He had been able to stop himself from rolling his eyes before, but he couldn’t stop himself now. “Do you really think I’m stupid enough to buy that line?”  

His mother’s brilliance faded. She reached for Tony, her manicured fingers pressing against Tony’s shoulders as she brought him to her for a hug. “You are not stupid, and I would never think you are.”

Guilt roiled in his stomach. Great, now he’d made his mom feel bad. “Of course I’m not stupid, but you’re acting like I’m a five-year-old. This isn’t some fun, surprise vacation. Howard doesn’t do surprises. Even if he did, his attitude isn’t someone who decided at the last minute that it would be fun to have a family vacation. This is like all those times when someone screwed up at work and he had to leave in the middle of dinner.”

His mom withdrew her embrace, but kept her hands lightly on his shoulders. Her face scrunched in contemplation. “I suppose that is a fair comparison, but honey,” her tone took on a palcating lilt, “is the thought of a sudden vacation really that terrible?” A twinkle of mirth entered her eyes. “Really, aren’t there worse things to complain about?”

Tony sighed. His mom was right. It didn’t erase his bitterness about how his parents went about the whole thing, but he really couldn’t complain without coming off like a brat. “Okay. I’ll pack faster.”

“Don’t forget to pack your toothbrush.” She took two steps backwards before pivoting.

“Yes, Mom,” Tony said as she exited.

Tony breezed through packing his clothes. Most of the stuff he packed were the things he’d brought home with him from college, so there was very little debating what he needed to bring. He plucked the fairytale book off the floor and added it to his bag.

Soon after, Tony zipped up his suitcase and tossed it into the trunk of his father’s car. His parents had already finished packing. Once his stuff had been added to the vehicle, he and his parents were on the road.

Tony stared out the window and let his thoughts wander. At first he tried to figure out where his father could be taking them, but after an hour, Tony gave up. Wherever they were going it wasn’t one of their usual places. His mom talked to him, but Tony didn’t engage. She kept asking him about college and his friends. He wouldn’t mind sharing the information with her, but with Howard in earshot, Tony didn’t want to say too much. It felt like he would be rewarding Howard’s secrecy. If Howard was going to secretive, then Tony would be too.

Eventually his mom either realized she wasn’t going to get much out of him or she had grown tired of prying information out of Tony. Either way, she joined Tony in silently watching the road. Every now and then she piped up with a comment (either mentioning something she noticed on the road or speaking an arbitrary thought she chose to share with Howard and Tony).

The purples and pinks of sunset fought through the afternoon, winter gray skies to tell the world that evening was approaching.

Tony was stiff and sore from the long drive. He rolled his neck and shoulders. “Are we at the hotel yet?” He doubted they were even going to a hotel. Howard had taken them off the busy highway and onto a windy, dirt road that weaved through the thick woods. The smell of bark, leaves, and dirt was so potent it had seeped into the car even with the windows rolled up.

Howard hadn’t packed a tent or sleeping bags, so at least Tony could rule out camping for what Howard had planned. Staying at a cozy cabin for a week remained a possibility.

“We still have a ways to go,” Howard said.

Tony sat up straighter. He leaned his between the front seats of the car. There was a turnout ahead. “Can we pull over and stretch?”

Howard tapped his fingers agitatedly on the wheel.

“Now is not a good time,” Maria answered. She smiled apologetically. “We can look into it once we’re on the main highway again.”

“How long will that be?” Tony asked.

“Enough questions. You sound like a five-year-old.” Howard glared at Tony through the rearview mirror. “You’re not driving. You can handle a few more hours on the road.”

Tony inwardly bristled. His anger was only temporary as Howard’s words sank in. His dad had been driving for hours. His old man was stubborn and proud, but even Howard had to admit that he was not immune to the physical strain that came from driving for hours. “Maybe mom or I should drive?”

“You don’t know where we are going,” Howard said.

Tony scowled. “And whose fault is that?”

“Could all of us take a moment to calm down?” Maria asked. “I know things are stressful right now. Let’s not make it worse by arguing.”

Tony wanted to grumble and protest, but he knew doing so would upset his mom.

Not like he’d win the argument with Howard anyway. Ultimately, there was little gratification to be gained by persisting.

Tony slumped in his seat. He crossed his arms over his chest as he took a deep breath. His shoulders dropped on the release. A chunk of his tension flowed out of him. He repeated his deep breathing two more times. After that, he was much more relaxed.

He dozed off.

Tony jarred forward as the car swerved. His gasp was swallowed by Howard’s furious and startled bellow as the man cranked the wheel. A pitched sound escaped Maria.

Tony’s mind raced. He saw his parents and the lights across the car’s dash, but everything else was blanketed by the night’s darkness. He opened his mouth to demand answers, but almost bit off his tongue when a bullet shot rang out and the car swung out.

Tony grunted as the car slammed into a tree. The shadows of leaves and branches rained down on the car.

“Maria!” Howard grabbed at his wife.

Blood rushed to Tony’s ears. The air in his lungs thinned until the organs burned with a need for oxygen.

Tony pushed himself up, only for his seatbelt to pin him into place. He squirmed and patted around in the darkness for the release button. He could see his mother’s lolled head behind the head of her seat. The spider web crack on her window and the smell of copper in the air chilled Tony.

“Tony, go!” Howard shouted as he reached for his wife.

Tony found his buckle’s release button and pushed. “Mom!” He scrambled toward her, but Howard flung his arm out at Tony.

Tony sucked in a sharp breath as he hit the backseat with more force than he thought his dad possessed.

Rage and desperation contorted Howard’s face into something inhuman. “Get out!”

The front passenger door was ripped off the car. The door shrieked as it hit the ground and skidded.

An arm reached into the car. Before Tony could comprehend what he was seeing, his mother was yanked out of the car like a ragdoll.

Howard howled like a wounded animal. He moved like a beast as he lunged at where his wife had been. He sprang out of the car, shouting: “Run!”

Tony was frozen.

He saw movement and human forms outside the car.

Tony screamed in horror as the back passenger door burst inward in the shape of a human. Instinct seized Tony. He grabbed the door handle of the opposite door, threw the door open, and raced out of the car like a bomb was about to go off.

He bolted for the trees.

The screech of metal and plastic followed by his father’s groan was like a bucket of ice poured over Tony’s head. He skidded to a halt and pivoted.

His mother lay on the ground and his father was on his knees, holding a chunk of metal like it was a knife.

A tall, male figure in dark colors aimed a glock at Howard’s head. The dark made most of the fine details of the man impossible to see; however, Tony would have to be blind to miss the white, luminous, and most certainly not human eyes the man possessed.

Those eyes shifted to Tony, a slender strand of brown hair falling into them. The eerie gaze paralyzed Tony.

The man’s gaze tore itself away as Howard attacked him with his chunk of metal. The other man snatched Howard’s wrist and squeezed until Howard dropped the metal.

“He’s not part of your orders!” Howard shouted at the man as he struggled. “Tony, run, you stubborn idiot!”

Tony never obeyed Howard faster in his life. Tony sprang like a deer and took off like a cheetah into the woods. He slipped on leaves and tripped on twigs. He slammed his sides into many trees and cried out each time.

He ran when his chest ached from breathing in the freezing air that only made his lungs burn more.  

He ran when his ankle throbbed from twisting it on a root.

He ran as his thighs chaffed and his legs went numb.

He ran when his thoughts stopped and in their place was just a hazy cloud of emotions.

He ran until he fell and his arms and legs refused to push him up. Tony lay in the dirt and leaves. His breath a white cloud in front of his face. He shivered from the sweat that had soaked his clothes and the morning mist. As he lay there, his mind replayed the events that had led him to that spot on repeat. Tears gathered in his eyes, but he couldn’t find the strength to sob. He just let them flow as he laid there.

He should have stayed and fought.

He would have died if he had tried.

He didn’t think he could live with himself now though.


	4. Chapter 3

One moment everything was black in Tony’s dream and the next Tony floated outside of his body, which hung limply in Stephen’s arms. Stephen cradled Tony like a superhero cradled his injured lover after rescuing them from a burning building.

A portly man with shaven dark hair hovered near Stephen. Tony might not have recognized the man as Wong if it weren’t for his swathing layers of burgundy and mauve. He looked human now, but Tony would bet money that the man next to Stephen was Wong.

Behind the duo was a gold ring that shimmered like the sun’s corona. In the center of the ring was an opening to a forest lit by early morning sunlight. Beneath the men’s feet a gray, rock bridge twisted through the vast, pink, empty sky. The bridge was suspended by nothing. Chucks of the bridge had been chipped off and floated in the rose colored space, accompanied by effervescent bubbles.

Stephen lifted his head and searched until he spotted Tony’s floating self. Stephen relaxed. “I was curious how bringing your body here would affect you.”

“You were worried about me,” Tony translated.

Stephen marched onward across the bridge. “Stay close to me. It would be dangerous for you to wander into someone else’s dream.”

Delight bubbled in Tony’s stomach. Tony floated onto the bridge, placing himself at Stephen’s side. He’d planned to match Stephen stride for stride, but was thrown when Stephen pivoted around. “Coming, Wong?”

“Just waiting for some distance between myself and…” Wong eyed Tony’s body and his spirit. “...I wish to remove my glamor.”

Stephen nodded. He took two steps back.

Wong nodded. As if he were covered in gasoline and he had flicked on a lighter, Wong’s body burst into flames.

Stephen turned and walked away.

Tony whirled and jogged his first few steps to catch up with Stephen. He yelped when Stephen’s arm shot out and drew his spirit self closer. Tony looked up at Stephen expectantly, as Stephen struggled to rebalance Tony’s body in his arms.

“A nearby dream.” Stephen glanced down at Tony. “Not everyone can see them.”

Tony nodded.

Stephen’s brow crinkled. It smoothed as he looked ahead. “You are very accepting at the moment, Tony. Many humans are when dreaming.” Stormy eyes dashed to Tony’s body then his spirit then forward again. “You are in Fae. A part of Fae that is connected to dreams. This is my kingdom, and while you are here, you are under my protection. In repayment for my hospitality, I expect answers from you.”

“You’re so stiff.” Tony twirled in front of Stephen and walked backwards.

“Stay close.” Stephen hugged Tony’s body as if by doing so he could force Tony’s spirit to stay nearby.

“What if I don’t want to?”

“He is king here.” Wong’s tone was deep. He lengthened his stride, but shortened it when he got too close to Tony’s body. “You will obey.”

Sweat dripped down Tony’s spectral arm. He watched as the bead slid. He couldn’t feel it at all. He looked at his body. Perspiration had formed on his forehead.

Stephen leaned away from Wong.

“You’re really a king?” Tony floated off of the bridge.

Stephen sighed. He looked over his shoulder but his gaze wasn’t aimed at Wong. “Keep him close.”

Stephen stepped forward and his cloak stayed behind. The cloak twisted then stretched itself like a cat. Then just as fast as a feline, the cloak launched itself at Tony’s specter.

Tony barely got a sound out before the weight of the cloak engulfed him. He cried out and pushed against the fabric as it covered his head. He gasped as he broke his head free from the fabric. The cloak hugged him like a boa constrictor. “Stephen! I’ll stay on the bridge. Make it let go of me.”

Stephen cocked his head. “Is that a promise?”

Tony opened his mouth to answer when his gut twisted. He had to be careful. He had to word this promise right or he might never leave the bridge. “I’ll stay on the bridge until we get to your destination, but I can leave the bridge if there is imminent danger.”

Stephen considered then nodded. “It is a deal.”

Invisible manacles chained Tony to the bridge. He couldn’t feel them on his wrists or ankles, yet he felt an oppressive weight on his being that hadn’t been there before.

The cloak unwrapped itself from around Tony. It circled him. When it deemed that Tony would not flee, the cloak sailed back to Stephen. The cloak rested on his shoulders.

Tony followed the cloak, albeit slowly. Hurt and betrayal echoed through him. Stephen had never suppressed Tony as he had then.

It angered him, but the anger was just a brief spark. Hurt and disappointment doused it.

Stephen waited for Tony to join him at his side before taking off again.

Tony felt Stephen’s furtive glances, but said nothing. He had no words to communicate the wound Stephen had inflicted on him.

“Fae do not apologize,” Stephen stated.

Tony lifted his head just enough to gaze at Stephen. His face was stone, and he refused to look at Tony.

“To apologize is to owe one something,” Wong elaborated on Stephen’s behalf.

“You’re fae.” Tony wrinkled his nose. “But you said this place is connected to Fae, like this is a place.”

“We’re here.” Stephen adjusted his hold on Tony’s body. His arm cupped Tony below the buttocks. Tony’s head flopped onto Stephen’s shoulder. The new position freed up one of Stephen’s arms.

Stephen pushed out his arm. He curled his middle and ring finger then held up his index as he extended his thumb and pinkie. He rotated his arm, starting with a small circle then widening his circle.

The the pink atmosphere thickened, becoming a fog. The fog and bubbles parted like a curtain. Paper cranes burst from the atmospheric curtain and flew into the pink sky. Beyond the pulled back veil was a sky of midnight and iris that  was speckled with diamonds. The beautiful sky framed a three-story townhouse made up of arches and domes. A large, round window peered up at the sky like an observatory telescope.

The bridge turned into a river ahead that cut through the lush greenery of the land that the townhouse was settled on.

A horse’s head poked out from the water. The horse flared its nostrils as its ears flicked forward. “Highness,” the horse said then disappeared into the water.

A figure dashed across the grass faster than Tony could see then disappeared into a bush.

Stephen sidestepped off the bridge.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” As Tony stepped off the bridge he felt the weight that had smashed down on him lift.

“You’re human,” Wong deadpanned as he walked past Tony’s spirit.

“So humans can’t learn magic?”

“Why did the Winter Court’s knight attack you?” Stephen asked.

The doors of the townhouse opened. Stephen strolled inside.

The inside of the house was an Escher painting. Stairs and corridors going every which way joined at the entrance hall. Artifacts and jars of swirling galaxies on pedestals peppered the open spaces. It was an explorer's paradise, and Tony felt his inner Darwin awakening.

He slipped away from Stephen. He got about two steps away before Wong blocked his path.

Wong’s mouth was a firm line as he stared Tony down. He nodded at Stephen.

Tony huffed, but floated back to Stephen, who was climbing a staircase that went up the wall and connected with a corridor on the ceiling. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“No knight in shining armor attacked me.”

Stephen’s mouth curled. “He may not have looked like the type of knight from human history books or children’s tales.”

Tony shrugged. “I don’t know why he attacked.”

A door in the twisting corridor opened. Stephen carried Tony’s body inside and laid him on a sparse twin bed. The room was pragmatic with just the essentials: a place to sleep, an oil lamp, and a dresser. The only non-essential was a small desk. The room was so bare, Tony knew it had to be a guest room. A well taken care of one too. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere to be seen.

Stephen arranged Tony’s body so he’d wake in a comfortable position. He sat on the edge of the bed. He took a moment to stare at Tony’s unconscious body then returned his attention to Tony’s spirit. “You must know some reason for the attack.”

Tony held his hands palms-up.

Stephen’s brow furrowed. “Were you alone when he attacked?”

“No.”

“Who were you with?”

“My mom and my dad.”

Trouble and bafflement contorted Stephen’s expression. He examined Tony’s body. For a beat, all he did was look. He then reached out and took Tony’s hand in his. He closed his eyes and concentrated. When he opened his eyes again, his confusion had grown. “Did he target them or you?”

“I’m the one here, aren’t I?”

“True,” Stephen admitted, a tinge of doubt in his tone. His body was hunched and tense.

Stephen’s distraught pulled at Tony like gravity. He drifted to Stephen, and before he knew what he was doing, he cupped Stephen’s face. Stephen startled at the contact, which warmed Tony’s insides. There was just something endearing about the wide-eyed look Stephen was giving him. It was a far better look than the troubled one he’d had before.

Stephen’s hand wrapped around Tony’s wrist.

Regret filled Tony. He couldn’t feel Stephen’s hold on him, not even when Stephen squeezed.

As saddened as he was by his inability to feel Stephen, he was pleased when Stephen closed his eyes and leaned into one of Tony’s hands. He was disappointed when Stephen opened his eyes and jerked his head out from Tony’s hands.

He didn’t let go of Tony’s wrist though.

“You might regret your actions later. Right now, you are thoughts and emotions unguarded. You are your dream self, who isn’t burdened by human sensibilities or logic.”

“I love you,” Tony said.

“Only in dreams.”

Tony shook his head.

Stephen released Tony’s wrist and stood. “Stay here for now.” Stephen sidestepped Tony. He strode to the door, and Tony’s heart broke.

“Stephen,” Tony said.

Stephen paused but didn’t look back.

“Why is it like this?”

Stephen’s head dipped. From Tony’s perspective it was difficult to gauge whether the head bow was one of shame or contemplation. The movement was brief though, and soon Stephen stood tall like the royal that he was. Stephen raised his arm.

His cloak flowed off his shoulders. It arced and flew at Tony like a gentle ocean wave. It circled Tony then draped itself on Tony’s shoulders.

“If you need anything, tell my cloak. It will find me.” Stephen walked out of the room and the door shut behind him.

Tony gripped the cloak and tugged it tighter around him. “I like him more than you.”

The cloak swatted Tony on the back of the knee.

* * *

 

“Do you think it is wise to leave him alone?” Wong asked as they walked the path to the treasury. His flames shrunk then grew. Wong was unsure, but he was also determined.

“Not wise, but necessary.” Stephen did not enjoy leaving Tony’s side. His stomach prickled with emotion. His skin itched and was too small, but that was a common side effect when he wore his human glamor. Temptation whispered in his ear. Now that he was in Fae he did not need his glamor.

It was the voice of doubt that kept him from freeing himself of his burden.

What if Tony saw?

At the moment, Tony’s dream self would most likely accept Stephen’s true appearance, but the moment Tony awakened his human sensibilities might reject Stephen. He did not relish the idea of Tony dismissing him. He wanted Tony to cooperate with him. He prefered not to use force like a tyrant, which he might have to if the rumors about the Winter Court were true.

“Stephen,” Wong said. He did not need to inject an edge of seriousness or concern into his voice for Stephen to know that what followed his name was of importance. As much as his kind loved and thrived on chaos, there was still hierarchy. In an established court in which Stephen had thrown about his power and intimidate his subjects he could afford to show favoritism, but as things currently were, Stephen’s affection for Wong would be seen more as weakness.

Wong knew this, and so together their played their roles of knight and king. The fact that Wong broke formality was a testament to how strongly he felt about what he wanted to say.

“Whatever his involvement, he is human. Your kingdom is Fae. There are very few stories of humans who venture into Fae that end happily for the human.”

Stephen’s stomach churned. He didn’t need Wong to inform him that Tony was in a precarious situation. Depending on how Stephen handled it, Tony could leave Fae without coming to harm or things could spiral.

Unfortunately, with the Winter Court trying to expand its territory and add to its power, Stephen was in a bit of a bind. A bind he shouldn’t be in, but one he suffered from because he had turned to the dreams of a human who had been kind to him for a reprieve when being the King of the Dream Court had taken its toll. He’d become attached, perhaps even possessive.

He could not deny that a greedy part of him wanted to keep Tony like he would one of his treasures—that a part of him felt entitled to Tony because he had noticed Tony before any other fae had.

The path twisted until the floor was the ceiling and vice versa. A heavy, oak door stood to Stephen’s left. He closed his eyes and raised his hand.

He tapped into a power that no other fae to his knowledge had. He tapped into the astral and mystic magics that blanketed the mortal realm yet was threadbare in Fae. Being the only Fae who could tap into that power, it didn’t matter if he was in the mortal realm or in Fae: he was a powerful force no matter where he was.

His consciousness sank as the magics of the astral and mystic rose up to meet him. He let the magic wash over him then directed it through his fingers and aimed it at the protection spell that made the door impenetrable to anyone but him.

The spell and his magic met, entangling until the spell recognized him.

The door opened.

Stephen opened his eyes and lowered his arm.

Stephen had many artifacts and trinkets scattered throughout his home that were protected by magic so that no one could steal them or use them without his permission. His treasury held more of these artifacts but it also contained piles of gems, jewelry, enchanted items, silver, gold, and many other coveted things.

Stephen strode over to a tree made from orange crystal. It was just a sprig of a thing with its thin branches and minimal amount of leaves. It was a young tree that was just regaining its spring coat. It was also something from which Stephen liked to hang the necklaces and rings he had gathered over the last few years.

"Have you chosen to not listen to me, or do you not care?" Wong kept pace with Stephen.

Stephen scanned the tree for what he was looking for. "Your concern is noted. Shouldn't you be looking into the Winter Court's movements?"

Victory swelled in Stephen's chest when his eyes landed on the rings had been looking for. Compared to all his other treasures they were one of the least fantastic. There was nothing magical about them, but their appearance had intrigued Stephen, and so he had taken them.

The two bands were platinum. One was shaped like a crown while the other had a basic structure. Tiny beads of platinum framed the edges of the simple band, creating two rows, whereas the crown only had one row of beads that circled its base like a brim. Engraved on the inside of the simple ring were two crowns that matched its partner ring.

Stephen plucked the two rings off of the crystal tree.

"You are my king, and I am your knight. I serve and defend you. The Winter Court is a threat, but I don't think it is the only one."

Stephen guffawed. "That is an understatement."

* * *

 

Tony paced the room with his arms crossed over his chest. Occasionally, he glanced at his unconscious body. He didn't like being locked away like he was Rapunzel. Many times he considered sneaking out of the room, but something kept him there. Maybe it was the trust that he held for Stephen, or maybe it was the knowledge that Stephen’s home was a labyrinth and if he became lost he would never be able to find his way back that kept him from marching out of the room.

Tony stopped in front of his body. He poked his cheek, but unlike when he touched Stephen, his finger passed through his flesh.

Discontent roiled through Tony.

"It's here." The words were distant and muffled by the door.

Tony's head snapped in the direction of the sound.

"Just because he's king he thinks he has the run of the place." A gruff and irritated voice joined the second. Footsteps shuffled close to the door.

Panic chilled Tony. He rounded on his body. He didn't know who or what was coming, or if anything was coming at all (maybe the owners of the voices would walk past his room). His uncertainty made him all the more frightened.

What if these new people entered his room and wished to cause him harm? Could he defend himself?

Which was more vulnerable? This manifested form of consciousness, or his body?

Stephen's cloak hugged Tony. Perhaps it meant to comfort him, but all its action did was make Tony feel claustrophobic.

_SLAM!_

The door rattled under the jarring blow.

"Cow fucking son of a bitch!"

"Patience. Allow me."

 _Wake up!_ Tony’s being shouted, drowning out all other impulses and desires.

The door cracked open.

A force yanked Tony's spirit backwards.


	5. Chapter 4

Tony didn’t have time to scream. Physics be damned, it felt like he was free falling from hundreds of feet. His “descent” came to a jarring end. Everything was black, and then his eyes flew open.

Tony noticed many things at once. One, he was still in the room. Two, he was lying down. Three, he was on the bed. Four, he could feel the soft fabric of the blankets and pillow. Five, all of his senses seemed heightened, as if something had been muffling them before. Six, the door was open and two hairy, humanoid creatures with thin, bridged feline-like noses and large, pupil-less were staring at him. Seven, he was a little hazy on the details of the dream he’d just had, but he remembered enough to know that he was in the exact room he’d been inside during his dream.

“Cogs and bogs!” The taller of the two creatures straightened like someone had shoved a May pole up his ass. A coat of black hair draped over his body like willow leaves. A scar slashed his left eye.  “Why the donkey punch is there a human here?”

“I don’t know.” Tall, ringed horns protruded from the female’s head. Tony had no idea if she was in fact female or not. Thankfully the long, cousin Itt hair hid any genitals they possessed. Tony assumed their sexes based on their voices.

 While the supposed male creature had dark hair that could rival a raven’s feathers, the female’s hair was chestnut in shade. Unlike her counterpart, her white eyes carried no scars.

She turned to her companion. “Do you think his highness will eat the human?”

Tony tensed and blindly reached for a weapon. Unfortunately, all he had was a pillow.

The black-haired creature pressed his lips together. The tips of fangs poked his bottom lip. He took a step forward.

Tony was about to pick up the pillow when the red cloak from his dream flew between him and the two creatures. The cloak flared itself out to block Tony from the two creatures. It held the position for two seconds before twisting and turning in what seemed like miming.

The two creatures cried in outrage at the cloak.

Tony had no idea what was going on, and he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. He picked up and the pillow and hurled it between the two creatures. The creatures shouted as they sprang apart, creating a path to the door. The cloak twisted like a person whirling around to see the threat behind them.

Tony rushed around the cloak, grabbed the oil lamp off the desk, and threw the lamp at the cloak.

He heard the glass break as he rushed out the door and almost crashed into the wall. He inhaled sharply as he took in the corkscrewing corridor. He didn’t have time to think about the architect and physics of the hallway.

Tony bolted. His stomach churned. His head swam as he went from running on the floor to running up the walls, then the ceiling, and back down to the floor, which no longer felt like the floor, but the ceiling.

He was disoriented and was confident that he had at an idea of what vertigo felt like.

He stumbled and fell against a door.

Tony had just a beat to reorient himself when the door swung open. For a brief moment, he thought he saw shelves of plants and apothecary tools. Those images were swallowed up by a desert.

Tony’s staggered backwards. The air wavered with heat from the sun. Large, unidentifiable birds circled in the blue sky above. A house of gray brick crumbled before Tony. Holes had been carved into the home to create spaces for windows and doors, but there was no glass in the windows, nor was there a door in the rectangular frame.

Tony craned his head around. There were no traces of the place he had been before, and no signs to tell him where he was.

What the hell had he stumbled into, he wondered.

With nowhere else to go, Tony entered the house. He’d just crossed the threshold when he stopped. The only light in the room was the flicking illumination of a twelve inch TV with an antenna. Black and white fuzz danced on the screen as garbled voices came from the TV. The glow of the TV backlit the cushioned chair that faced it.

“Hello?” Tony spoke in a lowered voice. He couldn’t see anyone in the chair, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t there. He didn’t want to startle them.

When he heard no response, Tony took a few more cautious steps inside.

An elderly man half-sunken into the chair stared blankly at the TV screen.

Dread piled onto Tony. The old man looked almost skeletal. He was also oblivious to Tony’s presence.

“Hi,” Tony tried again.

The man was catatonic.

“You should not be here,” the black haired creature from before spoke at Tony’s back.

Tony jumped and whirled. He almost kneed the horned one of the creatures in the face, meanwhile the one who Tony had assumed was male got his nose knocked into by Tony’s hip.

The black haired one scowled. “This isn’t your dream.” He snatched Tony by the wrist and tugged.

“Hey!” Tony shouted as he was bent forward by the creature’s force.

The female creature took advantage of Tony’s folded posture and seized his other wrist. Tony tried to straighten and break free, but the hairy creatures were stronger than they appeared.

“Let me go!” Tony kicked up sand as the two dragged him out of the house and into the desert.

The roar of a motor came from the distance.

Tony searched for the source of the sound. He spotted a dust cloud led by an approaching biker.

“Help!” Tony shouted.

The creatures shushed him. The female one went so far as to kick him in the shin.

“Where is that exit, Hill?” the tall one asked.

The shorter of the two swiveled her head. Her horns skimmed Tony’s belly. “It should be here.”

“Where here?” the black-haired one demanded.

Hill huffed. “You shouldn’t be so short-tempered, Fury. Not when you’re numb to entrances and exits.”

Fury bared his rows of pointed teeth. “And you should learn to keep a better house.”

Hill hissed at Fury.

“Help!” Tony shouted again as the motorcyclist neared.

Fury and Hill cursed. They shared a look. The next thing Tony knew, he was yanked to the ground. He gasped upon impact with the sand. He moved to roll over, but arms wrapped around him like he was a tree trunk being hauled off to a chopper. Hill and Fury sprinted across the desert with him, farthering the distance between them and the crumbling house until the domicile was a speck in the distance.

Tony tried to ram his elbow into Fury’s side. He couldn’t get a good angle.

Tony gasped when Fury and Hill dropped him.

Fury and Hill pounced on Tony. They straddled him.

Tony grimaced. Fury’s sex was indisputably male.

“You listen here.” Fury reached over Tony’s shoulders to poke Tony’s cheek. “Grabbing the dreamer’s attention can be dangerous. Don’t do it.”

“Says the monster who wants to eat me.”

“Hobb,” Hill said.

“What?” Tony asked

“We are hobbs.”

Hobbs? Like faerie? The little creatures known for looking after houses?

Tony twisted his head around to get another look at Hill and Fury. They were not what he pictured hobbs to be.

“I don’t care what you are. Get off me.” Tony threw his body weight to one side. Victory and relief made his chest feel lighter when his body successfully rolled. Those emotions were demolished when Fury and Hill stuck to him like they'd been welded onto him. The two hobbs used the momentum of his roll to swing themselves from his back to his front.

Fury scowled down at Tony. “We'll have to do this the hard way.”

* * *

 

Stephen and Wong reached the staircase where they would have to part. Wong stopped. His flames flickered to one side as if the wind was toying with them. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Stephen scoffed. It was easier to act aloof than show fear or insecurity. He trusted Wong, but there was a high price to pay when showing anyone vulnerability. “I never thought of this as a game.”

Wong nodded his head deferentially.

A flapping noise came from Stephen’s right.  

The Cloak of Levitation barreled toward Stephen. Stephen gasped as the damn thing knocked into his chest. The cloak was a river of motion with the frenzy of a child. The cloak swatted him and pushed him toward where he had left Tony.

Stephen slapped the cloak down. “Calm down!” A clamp settled on Stephen’s chest and tightened. Whatever had brought the cloak to him had to do with Tony.

The cloak lifted its corners and covered its collar like someone who’d been hit on the head.

“What happened?” Stephen demanded.

The cloak dropped its corners. It straightened out and rose so the collar was two feet higher than Stephen’s head. It was pissed and wanted Stephen to know.

“I am aware. Now, what brought you here?”

The cloak lowered itself then stretched out one of its corner, effectively pointing in the direction of where Tony had been. The cloak flared out then dashed toward the wall where it acted startled then shriveled up into a tiny ball of fabric.

Stephen cursed. He turned to Wong. “You know what to do.”

“Lead the way,” Stephen told the cloak.

The cloak bobbed. It took off down the corridor.

Stephen jogged after the cloak. As he neared the room where he had left Tony. He could feel the shift in the air that signified the entrance to a dream nearby. The cloak took him to his apothecary. Upon opening the door, Stephen could see the dream hovering just inside. It was small, perhaps the size of one of Stephen’s more generous tomes, and it was teardrop in shape. Within the teardrop was a vast desert. To many the dream probably looked too small for an adult human to fall into; however, dreams had a way of growing and absorbing whatever they came in contact with.

The cloak draped itself around Stephen’s shoulders.

Stephen strode into the dream.

He blinked as sunlight and sand composed his surroundings. A motorcyclist hunted by a cloud of sand drove toward a crumbling house. Stephen considered the house and motorcyclist, and the odds that Tony had placed himself at the center of the dream’s plot.

The cloak tugged on Stephen.

Stephen followed the pull. Relief hit Stephen at the sight of Tony a good distance away. Dreams were fascinating things, but for Tony and many fae, they could be dangerous. If they became too immersed in a person’s dream, they could be harmed or killed by the events of the dream. Not always, but the risk was there nonetheless. The dreamer was the only person truly safe in a dream.

Stephen’s relief was short lived. Fury and Hill had Tony pinned. Fury was posed above Tony in a threatening manner. His teeth were bared and his face was inches from Tony’s.

Righteous anger boiled in Stephen.

He jumped an inch off the ground and the Cloak of Levitation lifted him higher until he was flying.

With the aid of his cloak, Stephen zoomed toward Tony and the two hobbs. He breathed deep, letting his mind slip into his astral and mystic magics just enough for it to build in his fingers. He concentrated until the magic was a ball of energy.

Stephen hurled the magic at Fury.

* * *

 

Tony trembled at Fury’s threat. Internally, he cursed himself for showing any signs of fear. At the same time, his rational half reprimanded his pride mercilessly. He had no friggin’ clue where the hell he was or what was going on, and he had some ugly hobb guy sitting on his chest and going for his jugular with shark-like teeth. He had the damn right to be shaking with fear.

Fury was thrown off Tony like a rocket had rammed into him.

A combination of shock and relief stole Tony’s breath.

Hill squawked. Her grip on Tony loosened.

Tony freed one leg and kicked her in the face.

She cried out in pain and clutched her nose.

Tony wiggled his other leg out from under her and crawled onto his hands and knees. He started to push himself up when a shadow fell over him.

“Just what are you two doing to my guest?”

Tony’s jaw dropped. He was stuck between rising to his feet and remaining balanced on his toes and fingertips. He couldn’t fathom what he was seeing— _who_ he was seeing. That two-toned hair, those gray eyes that looked like thunderclouds, the long face and high cheeks, the foreign blue outfit, and that ridiculously tall build were familiar to Tony. Words escaped Tony to explain this phenomenon of knowing this man but being unable to recall when and where from.

He knew this man, and that was the first string he needed to pull on to unravel the mystery of him. Tony tugged on the thread, and the face became more clear. He could recall a number of expressions, but the most prominent was a stoic mask, and how that mask cracked when a light of fondness entered the man’s eyes.  

From there, Tony kept tugging until he had a name.

Stephen: the man who had taken Tony to Fae and had also called himself fae. The same man who had been in many of Tony’s dreams recently.

A sick feeling overcame Tony as his stomach plunged into the depths of dread.

Was this some sort of abduction and imprisonment attempt? Was he like Persephone and Psyche from Greek mythology?

“Your guest? YOUR guest?” Fury stomped and threw sand in the air. “He was in our house. You can’t bring someone into our house without permission.”

“Last I checked, I am your king,” Stephen said coolly. “My home is mine. I allow you to tend to it. You may leave it whenever you wish.”

Hill and Fury spat at Stephen’s feet.

Stephen quirked an eyebrow. “Do you need reminding of what the penalty of such an act would be in any other court of Fae?”

Stephen’s question knocked the fight out of Hill and Fury.

Stephen huffed, the sound of a man satisfied and pacified. He turned his attention on Tony.

Tony rushed to straighten into a standing position. He swayed.

Stephen latched a steading hand on Tony’s shoulder.

Tony flinched. He pushed Stephen’s hand off of him. “What the hell is going on?”

Stephen’s brow and mouth pinched. It was difficult to tell if the reaction was born from frustration or concentration. Perhaps both? Perhaps Stephen was coming up with a lie?

Except weren’t fae unable to lie? Tony had read that somewhere. However, how did he know that “factoid” wasn’t a lie?  

“The situation is complicated,” Stephen answered.

Hysterical laughter built in Tony’s chest. He kept the sound locked within himself.  “Well… if that isn’t the vaguest statement.”

“Currently, you are in a dream.” Stephen stretched out his arm, as if gesturing to something, but all Tony saw was desert, desert, and more desert. “I recommend us returning to my home.”

Tony’s spine went rigid. Returning to Stephen’s home did not sound safe.

“He thinks you’re going to eat him,” Hill said. Her milky eyes slid to Fury who had taken to kicking up sand as he mumbled to himself. “It was a joke.”

Anger contorted Stephen’s face. The emotion was a brief blur, but Tony knew he had seen it. It made his stomach knot more. Was he dealing with someone temperamental or was Stephen’s reaction exceptional? The bits of dreams that Tony recalled told him that it was the latter of the two possibilities, but Tony didn’t trust those dreams. In those same dreams he had felt something for Stephen—something good and strong. Dreams weren’t real though, thus those feelings couldn’t be real either.

“That joke was in poor taste,” Stephen scolded.

Stephen said to Tony, his tone gentle but firm. “You have every right to be cautious. I promise you that I will not eat you.”

The hysterical laugh Tony had suppressed bubbled out of him. “That’s reassuring.”

“How then can I reassure you?”

Tony went quiet. The question had caught him off guard. “You can’t.”

Stephen nodded. He stepped away from Tony. He squinted at the crumbling house in the distance. The motorcyclist had tossed aside their bike and was missing. Most likely they had ventured inside the decrepit home.

“This dream will end eventually.” Stephen crossed his arms over his chest. “When it does, we will find ourselves in my apothecary.”

“Just like that?” Tony asked.

Stephen nodded. “Unless you wish to leave sooner.”

Tony didn’t know what he wanted. He didn’t even know if he fully believed he was in a dream—a dream that wasn’t even his if what Fury and the others had said was true.

Tony dropped into a crouch. He bowed his head and clutched it. He felt like he was going crazy.

Stephen’s shadow moved.

Tony glanced up to see that Stephen had twisted himself to get a better look at Tony. He assessed Tony with his gaze. When their eyes made contact, Stephen nodded. He went back to watching the crumbling house.

Somehow that small interaction made Tony feel better. His world was simultaneously falling apart and flipping itself upside down, but at least the creepy dream guy in a cape wasn’t forcing Tony to go home with him. Tony normally would not give Stephen good person points for common fucking decency, but in this scenario he felt generous. He mentally added points to the tally he was keeping on Stephen.

“Highness,” Hill whispered to Stephen. “Is lingering best?”

“No, but we will be fine if we keep our distance. Fury and you may leave if you desire.”

There was silence for a few beats. Hill and Fury probably motioned at each other or exchanged looks, but Tony didn’t care enough to lift his head to see. If they left, fantastic! Two less people he had to worry about if he decided to bolt for it and try his luck escaping.

Flashes of the night before assaulted Tony. First it was memories of his legs screaming from overuse as his lungs burned from the freezing air. Then the memory of his mother on the ground as Howard lunged at an armed man who looked like he could take down a tank on his own rammed into Tony. It was a blow to his head and gut at once. He felt like doubling-over, but what his body did instead was fall on its ass.

Once again Stephen’s shadow shifted. Stephen stood over Tony. He yanked his cloak off his shoulders and wrapped it around Tony.

“Leave,” Stephen commanded.

Tony flinched at the tone. He was paralysed. Except he wasn’t. His hands were trembling like he had a case of hypothermia. Maybe he did? Because he felt like he was sitting in the middle of the Arctic and not in some desert.

There was some scrambling around Tony, and Hill and Fury came into his view. Stephen pointed them in a direction and mentioned something about an exit near three rocks. Fury and Hill took off where Stephen pointed, but not before Fury eyed up Tony one more time then mumbled: “You must be special.”

 _If this is happening because I am special, then I wish I wasn’t._ The thought was a distant voice in the back of Tony’s head.

The crash.

His mom yanked out of the car.

Howard yelling at him.

His mom unconscious.

Howard fighting.

The man who had attacked them.

Icy eyes.

Heat pricked Tony’s eyes. The cloak hugged him. Stephen lowered himself to Tony’s eye level.

"Tony," Stephen spoke his name softly, as if Tony were as frail as glass and would shatter at a volume louder than a whisper.

Tony didn’t say anything. Even as he saw Stephen before him, he was trapped by an assault of images — memories. The panic and heart wrenching sorrow from the night before welled up in Tony's chest. He couldn't breathe.

"Tony." Stephen said his name with more insistence. "I need you to breathe." Treating Tony as if he were a frightened animal, Stephen slowly reached out to him. With great care, Stephen pried Tony's hand from his face. Stephen placed Tony's hand over his heart.

Tony couldn’t feel Stephen's heartbeat through the layers of clothing but he could feel the rise and fall of the man's chest.

"In." Stephen's chest rose. "Out." Stephen repeated himself.

Tony pushed through the onslaught of memories. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes, and a few managed to escape. Each breath brought with it a prick of pain. His heart burned with agony. It would be easier to stop breathing. To go numb. He couldn't do that though, not when he saw his mother's unconscious form yanked from the car over and over again, and not when he could still vividly hear Howard screams for him to run.

"Are they dead?" Each word was bracketed by a breath. The hand Tony did not have on Stephen's heart latched onto Stephen's arm. "Are they?"

Stephen closed his eyes as if in great pain. He placed his hand on top of Tony's and squeezed. "I do not know everything that has happened."

Tony's grip for purchase became a death grip. Any normal person — any human — would have shown signs of discomfort at Tony’s strength. Not Stephen. "Then what do you know?" Tony demanded.

Stephen glanced around the dreamscape. "Dreams seem like they’re private things, don't they? Right now, we are proof that they aren't always as private as they seem." Stephen gave Tony a meaningful look. "My home is more private."

Tony scowled. "Is it? Because I remember being alone in a bedroom when those hobbs attacked me."

Stephen went rigid. Cold anger slid onto his face. "Did they really attack you?"

Tony almost answered with an affirmative, then stopped. “Not in the bedroom, but when we arrived here they got physical.”

The cold anger remained on his face, but it was joined by curiosity. “I will question Fury and Hill later. It is possible that they were trying to protect you. Journeying into other’s dreams can be dangerous. You could become a part of the dream and find yourself falling from thousands of feet from the air or being dissected by a mad scientist. Unlike the dreamer who can wake up, you are trapped in the dream, and your physical body is in danger.”

Suspicion tightened like a noose around Tony. "Yet you've entered my dreams more than once. Haven't you?" The dreams were just bits and pieces, and Tony couldn't see Stephen clearly in his meager recollections of those dreams; however, his gut told him that Stephen had visited him many times.

Stephen's eyes minutely widened then return to normal size. He nodded. "It was foolish even for someone with my power."

"And what is your power?"

Like a mirage, the dreamscape wavered. Tony startled. He tilted forward. He braced himself to collide with Stephen, but before impact, the magical cloak came to life and pulled Tony back into balance.

Tony stared at the cloak then blinked. As he blinked the desert vanished. He was in the dimly lit apothecary.

Tony took in a thin breath. His mind floundered as he tried to keep up with the scenery change.

Stephen rose. He guided Tony to stand with him.

In his shocked state, Tony put up no resistance.

Stephen let go of Tony’s hands. He marched over to the apothecary’s door. It opened at his approach. Stephen poked his head outside then swiveled it around. He shut the door. He raised his hand toward the door, and Tony had a flashback of his most recent dream.

Stephen closed his eyes. His brow furrowed.

Tony shuddered. “Hey! You better not be locking me in here!”

Stephen didn’t answer immediately. He flicked his wrist with his fingers pressed together, as if backhanding someone. He lowered his hand then opened his eyes. “You can leave at any time, but now no one will enter or hear us.”

Tony’s stomach roiled like the sea during a storm. He felt sick. He sincerely hoped Stephen was telling the truth about him being able to exit at any time. Otherwise, Stephen could do whatever he wanted to Tony inside this room and no one would be able to help him.

Assuming anyone would.

Tony swallowed.

“So what happened to my parents?” _Please, don’t be dead_. He even hoped for Howard’s survival. Much as he hated Howard, Tony had never wanted his father to die.

“I cannot say for certain. I need answers of my own before I can attempt to give you yours.”

Tony scowled. Of course Stephen needed his answers first. How convenient. Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “An answer for an answer.” Tony frowned. Hadn’t he already answered a few of Stephen’s questions? Only one way to find out. “I think you owe me answers first though. I already answered questions for you.”

Stephen took his time to respond. “Very well.” He gestured for Tony to ask his questions.

Tony exhaled. He hadn’t realized how tense and nervous he’d been about Stephen’s response.

Now, he had to figure out what question to ask Stephen first. Asking what had happened to his parents was getting him nowhere. He could try insisting. Perhaps Stephen would share a theory. Even a theory might ease some of Tony’s worry, but would it be enough? He had so many questions. He needed a moment to mull and consider what he knew.

He was not in the human/mortal realm, but was in a place called Fae.

Fae was home to fae. Stephen, Wong, Hill, and Fury were fae. Stephen was their king.

His current location was tied to dreams—the dream world.

Stephen had invaded his dreams more than once, which meant Stephen had known him before the attack last night.

Stephen had brought him to Fae after the attack.

“How long have you been invading my dreams and why?” Tony asked. _How do you know me?_ Tony wanted to ask this question directly, but he had to be cautious. If the myths about fae were true, then that meant he had to be careful with his wording. Asking the latter question would only get him a short and simple answer. The first question would force Stephen to paint a bigger picture. It also allowed more room for vagueness, but Tony was willing to take the gamble.

He just hoped Stephen counted the first question as one and not two. How and why were technically two different inquiries.

“Some time after you turned eighteen, I entered a dream of yours. I owe you a favor.”

An unplanned question almost rolled out of Tony’s mouth, but he stopped himself. He didn’t know how many questions Stephen would allow him before their conversation turned into a one question per question exchange. When that happened, he’d be limited to the same number of questions as Stephen. Tony suspected Stephen had fewer questions.

“Explain this favor,” Tony demanded.

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “That is not a question.”

Tony internally cursed. He’d been caught. He remained silent.

Stephen waited for Tony to continue.

Tony kept his mouth shut.

Stephen sighed. A fond smile curled his lips. Tony wasn’t sure if he’d imagined the subtle shift in expression.  

“I am too generous with you.” Stephen reached into his robe. He procured two rings. One was shaped like a crown and the other was a plain, platinum band at a quick glance.

Stephen picked up Tony’s hand as if he intended to slide the rings onto his fingers. “I am also selfish though, and my generosity can only go so far. I will explain, but only if you wear these rings until I ask for their return.”

Tony took his hand back. He covered it protectively. “I won’t be married to you if I wear those rings, will I?”

“Are you interested in marriage?” Stephen asked.

Tony gaped. He almost asked another question, when he caught himself. He grinned. “You just asked a question.”

Stephen cocked his head. “I believe you inquired about the rings.”

Damn. Stephen had him there. He had thought he’d gained an extra question, but instead, Stephen had balanced them out.

It would be optimistic of him to believe that Stephen had purposefully cancelled out Tony’s last question with one of his own.

Mirth twinkled in Stephen’s gaze. “You are entertaining when you are flustered.”

Heat burned Tony’s cheeks as he drenched his voice in sarcasm. “So happy to amuse you.” He pointed to the rings. “I refuse to wear those if they do anything magical.”

“I swear these rings have no magical properties. They are platinum bands that you could buy at a jewelry store in your world.”

Tony hesitated. He was putting a lot of faith in Stephen’s word.

His options were limited.

Tony laid his hand on Stephen’s. “If you are lying to me, I will get revenge.”

Stephen meet Tony’s gaze as he slid the ring that was simple in shape onto Tony’s index finger. The storm that lurked in Stephen’s eyes picked up its intensity. “I cannot lie.”

“But you can mislead,” Tony stated.

Stephen slid the crown onto Tony’s middle finger. He studied Tony’s ringed hand then lowered it.

“You were kind to me long ago,” Stephen said.  “In return, I promised you a favor. You couldn’t decide then what you wanted, so I agreed to ask you again sometime between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five.”

Synapses fired off in Tony’s brain. He could feel his hippocampus dredging up the faded memory and painting in forgotten details. He had never forgotten the time he had met a strange man who had snuck into his family’s backyard. He still recalled the pride and joy he had taken in feeding the man. What he had forgotten were the man’s face and voice. The clothes though…

Tony touched the soft, blue fabric of Stephen’s clothes. He doubted they were the same thing Stephen had worn then. As Tony studied the style, he knew it was similar to what he had seen in his memory.

Tony slid his hand down the robe’s top. It was a better fabric than he remembered. His fingers caught on the edge of the robe. He remembered pushing back the edge and shoving around pieces of Stephen’s top to tend to a wound.

“For someone who was so against marriage to me, you show a contradictory interest in my body.”

Tony paused his exploration. Stephen’s comment about him being entertaining when he was flustered was still fresh in his mind. He tilted his head up. “Just because I don’t want to marry someone doesn’t mean I don’t want to have sex with them.”

Stephen’s reaction was difficult to read. Tony cursed at how stoic the man could be. Call him petty, but after Stephen had embarrassed him, he had wanted to return the favor.

Stephen gave a thoughtful hum. “Strange. I would think carnal activities would be the furthest thing from your mind, considering the circumstances.”

Stephen’s words struck a hole in the dam that had been keeping Tony’s guilt and sorrow at bay.

The tear pricks returned to his eyes. He cussed and spun away from Stephen.

 _Stark men don’t cry,_ Tony berated himself. His internal reprimand had the opposite effect though. He heard those words spoken in Howard’s voice. In the past, Howard’s voice would have filled him with anger and evaporated his tears, but in his current state, tears slipped out.

Stephen touched Tony’s shoulder.

Tony smacked Stephen’s hand away. “I’m fine.”

“‘Fine’ has variable definitions.”

“Fuck you, Mr. Spock.”

“...I don’t know who Mr. Spock is.”

Tony laughed. The sound rushed out of him like a tidal wave. He doubled over. The tears poured down his face as he laughed and laughed. His stomach ached from his laughter, but he couldn’t will himself to stop.

His laughter turned to sobs. His hands shook on his knees where he had braced them after folding.

_Stop crying, idiot! Stop it! You can’t let him see you weak! He’ll take advantage._

The magical cloak hugged him. Tony shouted and wrestled against the cloak. The cloak resisted.

“Release him,” Stephen commanded.

The cloak’s hold on Tony weakened.

Tony pushed himself out of the cloak’s grasp and fell onto his hands and knees. The impact cut off his sobs with a gasp. A brief, sharp pain stung his palms and knees.

Tony breathed deep. He needed to get control of himself.

He curled his fingers into his palms to make fists. He clenched his jaw as he closed his eyes and searched for inner strength. He pushed himself onto his feet and faced Stephen. “I want to know what happened to my parents.”


End file.
